Faltering
by Meddling Mycroft
Summary: Sherlock as we know has always had his many secrets, and this is certainly no exception. JohnLock or Sheron as Benny prefers. One Shot It was be nice to read and review.


_**Greetings to all!**_

_**Thank you reviews and followers of my last story, you all know whom you are.**_

_**They were very inspiring and charming, I do hope that I will have more in the future (?)**_

_**Any who this was something that was on my mind for a while and I have decided to share it with the Internet (how thoughtful of me I know!)**_

_** I don't think you have read a JohnLock quite like this, or at least I have never stumbled upon one.**_

_**Once again I stress that you please, please (PLEASE) send me ideas for fanfictions if you have any, even if it is little.**_

_**Also do you know how to format on this? Mine always seems wonky. So if you are reading on desktop the margin should be on '1/2' for optimum viewing, thank you.**_

_**Now that is settled, let us crack on then! Shall we?**_

One shot:  
Sherlock had a secret, one that his family rarely spoke of, or at least ignored entirely.  
Refusing to believe that their son was 'imperfect' and needed to be fixed immediately as soon it was discovered when he began to talk.

Stuttering.

Sherlock remembered the times when he was a young boy, often indulging in various books at the time, he loved to read.  
However on a grimmer side he vividly recalled the hours upon hours of practice in his speech, often leaving his tongue heavy in his mouth and jaw tense.  
When he was only beginning to learn to speak, his parents thought nothing of it if he stumbled a bit on his letters or words, passing it off as a phase.  
But as he grew older it never changed, and being a Holmes it was a family crisis to his parents, meaning it was to change no matter what or how.  
He would often be in lessons with various tutors teaching him 'proper' word articulation, breathing, and phonation.  
Hours would go by but it always felt like he was going nowhere. He even remembered many times when late at night he would cry,  
having a hopeless feeling about him wanting it all to stop and be perfect like Mycroft.

Sherlock hated it.

As he grew it got slightly better and the practices seemed to help but he would slip as anyone would.  
Unfortunately he was only human as much as he detested in admitting it.

That's what he feared most, that or losing John.

His parents would have him rigorously say the word again and again until he got it perfect.  
He never made the same mistake again, if he could help it. School was worse, that is if he talked.  
He found that speaking fast was the best provision against it or not talking at all.  
However word got out that he stuttered and soon he was the laughing stock of everyone's malicious ridicule.  
He was taunted for being a fluke genius, and was often beat up in the school yard.

But now as an adult he never was around people enough for anyone to know, expect Mycroft and his parents anyways, but they would deny it.  
He refrained from people, to the extent he that he could anyways. Always opting to text instead of call.  
When at the Yard he always spoke as fluently as he could and attempted to stay as aloof as possible, the last thing he wanted was to stutter in front of God forbid Anderson.  
He had only slipped once in front of Mrs. Hudson which he easily passed off as a cough seeing  
as she was doing the wash and wasn't really paying attention. Overall he was good, seeing as no one got close enough to him,  
no one would ever find out. That it until one thing entered into his life.

John Hamish Watson.

Living with him as long as he had now Sherlock was surprised that he hadn't slipped in his speech, often mumbling things or speaking so rapidly that John was nearly dazed.  
He always did feel a bit bad about that, but he would feel worse if John knew the truth. John would never look at him the same way, or praise him as often as he did  
(which was something he loved very much). A genius like himself was supposed to be articulate and fluent not some tongue tied buffoon.  
However time passed and feelings grew, making him even more nervous around John then to begin with.  
Sherlock knew it was only a matter of time before John found out, he was rather clever after all.  
The swooning in his stomach or the dryness of his mouth did nothing to help his situation whenever he was near his blogger.

And of course when it happened it was at the most inconvenient of times.

Sherlock prowled around the body on the pavement, blood oozing from the women's head in a slow trickle.  
It was slightly drizzling so the ground had a glisten and her tanned skin had a shine to it.  
Bending down to his hunches carefully inspecting her for further clues and humming when he discovered that he ring finger had been clearly broken in an effort to remove her jewelry.

"Oi! Sherlock find anything yet?" Lestrade called out from somewhere in front of him.  
Looking up to see the DI with a cup of coffee in hand and a flailing scarf whipping against his torso.  
He stood up gracefully and then walked over to him to answer. "Nothing your report doesn't have I'm sure. " he said nonchalantly careful to form his r's, i's and h's correctly.  
"Well if you find anything tell me...no more of this...disclosing information from me." he grumbled back seriously. Sherlock scoffed and chuckled at the DIs facial expression.

"What's so funny?" A familiar voice came from behind him. The two turned to see John smiling brightly at them holding his notepad,  
and as Sherlock noted his hair slightly frizzy from the rain. "Oh nothing..." Greg offhandedly.

Sherlock smiled back looking down on John he really was handsome, his wet eyelashes did nothing to help his attractiveness. 

He found himself starring at John who was now talking to Lestrade, their words foreign to his ears,  
his eyes following the movements of John's lips as he talked. So beautiful, so breathtaking his friend was.  
Suddenly he saw a hand was in front of his face, waving to bring him back from his Mind Palace, "Sherlock? You okay? You didn't answer. "John called out slightly worried.  
Sherlock blushed lightly in his act of being caught staring at his best friend, his nerves in his stomach ignited and he found himself talking before watching his speech.

"I-I-I-I-I I'm f-f-f ine." he stumbled out before his own words registered in his ears, his eyebrows knitting together as he tried to place the words.  
He was so screwed, all that hard work gone in a single misspoken sentence.

His heart crumbled as he watched Johns face fill with shock, eyes going wide in surprise.  
Lestrade's, Donavon's and Anderson's were no better he observed.  
All their voices sound as if in one very mixed up sentence when they spoke, but John's stood out the most.

"The freak has a stutter?"  
"What the bloody hell?"  
"Did he just stammer?"  
"Oh Sherlock. "

Without being to bare one more second of humiliation he shot a what he hoped to be quick 'excuse me' but got stuck on the m making tears prick behind his eyes out of frustration and embarrassment.

As he turned to run away as far as possible, he heard laughter in the background with a yell from the DI  
at the two but the broken call of his name was the only thing that he really heard, and never wanted to face again.

He ran faster at the thought.

He made it to a nearby beach safely without any interruptions before stepping on the sand and walking a ways distance.  
He never wanted to go back, how was he supposed to face them? They probably would never let him hear the end of this…More importantly how was he to face John?  
Oh how he made an utter fool in front of them all, the shame he felt was something he couldn't begin to describe. "S-s-s-s stupid!"  
He yelled out angrily before dropping to the sand in a heap, pulling his legs up and burying his head in his hands.  
He cried for what felt like an eternity, all his pent up frustration pouring out. After a while he heard a voice call from what seemed like a mile away.

It was John?

John!

No.

"Go way." he mumbled pathetically through his hands, his voice thick and heavy. He curled up closer on himself, he never wanted to talk again, especially to John of all people.  
Moments later he heard the shuffle of sand as John sat next to him. He felt a hand on his right shoulder, stiffening at the contact of Johns touch but after a second felt slightly relived.  
They sat in silence for a long time, Sherlock sniffling occasionally, he deduced that John was waiting for him to open up, he internally scoffed at the thought.

Then the unexpected happened.

He felt Johns hand leave his arm and frowned at the idea of him leaving he really didn't want to be alone.  
However it was soon replaced by the other man moving closer to him and pulling him into a tight hug from his side.  
Sherlock nearly started to cry again from the gentleness of the simple action. "Sherlock? Why didn't you tell me?" He heard the blonde say in a soft tone, weaving his hand in his mass of locks.  
"You know I wouldn't have cared or thought less of you. I can't believe you hide it from me all this time, it's actually rather impressive. "Sherlock knew John was smiling at the words, he could hear it in his voice.  
Taking a shaky breath he turned to look up at him. "I'm sorry so sorry. I didn't want anyone to know. I was afraid people would laugh at me or think of me as stupid. "He said in a rush, starring at the grainy sand rather than John.

"Sherlock...please look at me." he heard John speak in pleading tone. He complied, but only just, sitting up to face John opposite direction still looking at the sand until he boldly locked eyes with him.

"Don't apologize Sher. Just listen." He held a hand up, preventing Sherlock form interrupting. "I'm not them, I'll never laugh or make fun of you for it. Actually it's rather cute. "  
John blushed a bright pink at the words so did Sherlock."And Sher I can only imagine what you're feeling, and I'm so sorry that I wasn't there for you enough, I feel awful that you felt the need to hide it. "  
John looked at the sand, holding back emotion it seemed. Sherlock couldn't even begin to form words, all his life he had been taught it was wrong and improper and now John was telling him otherwise.

He felt John's hands in his and before he knew it the doctor pulled him close to his chest, hugging him. "Sherlock you are perfect just the way you are, please don't be upset with yourself.  
You're no less of a genius to me, but you're more of a man to me now than ever before. "He felt himself be pushed back and found himself nodding to Johns words.  
Looking up though his eye lashes he saw John smiling at him, his face full of understanding. "In fact I also have something to admit." the army doctor said quietly.

And without warning a third surprise happened to him.

John's lips on his were the only thing he could register, so soft and tender, and tasted better than he could have ever imagined. He kissed back just as soft,  
only a small amount of pressure but that was more than he could have ever asked for. John pulled back, their lips making a soft click as they moved apart.  
"I like you a lot Sherlock." John whispered as if it were a secret, their hands still intertwined as he noted.

Sherlock blinked slowly still confused by John's actions and words but he quickly came from his daze.  
He decided then and there that John was the only thing he wanted or could ever want.

"I l-l-l-l like you to. " he answered before a bright blush painted his cheeks and his gaze dropped to the ground. He felt John cup his cheek forcing him to look up.  
The smile he was given was one that few people had, so genuine that it shook him to the core. John leaned forward and placed a chaste kiss to his forehead murmuring the words;  
"No more secrets or hidden feelings." in a hushed tone.

"Okay?"  
"Okay. "

**_Well I hope that it was satisfactory. Now if you'll excuse me I have to dash._**

**_And the formatting, I know it sucks, but if you know the trick it would be lovely if you could enlighten me._**

**_~Mycroft~_**


End file.
